


Far From the Shallow Now...

by EmpatheticVoice



Series: Sherlock Jukebox [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Post-The Final Problem, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 14:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18137141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpatheticVoice/pseuds/EmpatheticVoice
Summary: Set directly after "The Final Problem," Sherlock and Molly must deal with the fallout of where to go with their relationship.





	Far From the Shallow Now...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Song and Characters do not belong to me. 
> 
> Inspired by the song "Shallow" from the "Star Is Born" soundtrack. Performed by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper.
> 
> I highly suggest listening to the song to understand the context of the non-word parts of the song for maximum impact.

* * *

“ _I love you_.”

The line went dead.

* * *

 

_Tell me something girl._

_Are you happy in this modern world?_

 

* * *

Molly holds her head in her hands. 

* * *

 

   _Or do you need more?_

_Is there something else you’re searching for?_

 

* * *

 She lets out a deep sigh and exits out her kitchen. Leaving behind her knife and lemon on the counter. 

* * *

 

_I’m falling._

* * *

Hours later, Sherlock leans his head against the window, looking out into the darkness as Mycroft’s town car races back to London. John is asleep beside him, still wrapped up in his emergency blanket. The detective’s mind is still quite numb, still processing the events of Sherrinford, Eurus, and Victor.

* * *

 

_In all the good times I find myself longing…_

_For change…_

 

* * *

His mind palace is in shambles, after Eurus shattered the very constructs he built his perception of reality on. Through the rubble, he finds something amongst the random bits of data. It’s Molly’s tender confession.

_Molly._

His chest fills with a comforting warmth, but it still aches for some reason.

* * *

 

_And in the bad times, I fear myself._

 

* * *

He knows whatever relationship they had. It’s destroyed now. Eurus made sure of that.  For once, Sherlock feels truly afraid and empty. Their relationship had always been a fragile thing. He regrets always keeping her at arm’s length. He knows he loves her, and that she should never have had to live with the uncertainty that he didn’t. She deserved nothing less. But, he knows she deserves something more than a broken high-functioning sociopath. But he knows he can’t let her go either, because once he does, she will never look back. He is too afraid to lose her, but now it may be too late.

* * *

 

_Tell me something, boy._

_Are you tired trying to fill that void?_

* * *

Sometime later, she sees Sherlock in the morgue. He is there to look over a body for a case for Lestrade. The two take each other in, making silent deductions about each other.

* * *

_Or do you need more?_

_Ain’t it hard keepin’ it so hardcore?_

 

* * *

To Molly, despite the fact his clothing is in his usual pristine state, he looks a bit haggard. To Sherlock, the fact that she is alive and breathing in front of him, makes her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Molly fails to see this though. It’s beyond the realm of what she believes Sherlock is capable of, and she is too pragmatic to believe otherwise. All that ever mattered to him was “The Work.” Everything else, including Molly’s heart, are trampled in the pursuit. This she understands that about Sherlock very well now.

* * *

 

_I’m falling._

 

* * *

He takes a step towards her.

* * *

 

_In all the good times I find myself longing…_

_For change…_

 

* * *

Molly unconsciously takes a step back. Maintaining her distance.

Sherlock sees this and it confirms his suspicions. What was between them is irreparably broken. He sees a deadness, a lack of sparkle of inner light in her eyes now.

It makes him very sad.

* * *

 

_And in the bad times…I fear myself._

* * *

Molly wordlessly unzips the body bag then leaves Sherlock alone. She goes into the locker room. She can’t stop herself from hyper-ventilating.

She can’t do it. She can’t be around him.

The words _I Love You_ were always words she kept deep in her heart, something she kept for her most private of selves. Sherlock always had the power and control in how their relationship went. Now with the full, unvarnished, and raw truth out there, she had nothing left for herself. He had it all, exposing her every flaw to his scrutiny of cold logic. There was no going back from this. There was nowhere to hide or be coy, as it was all out there. Reality crashing down and crushing her dearest hopes and private fantasies.

* * *

 

_I’m off the deep end._

_Watch as I dive in._

_I’ll never meet the ground._

_Crash through the surface, where they can’t hurt us._

_We’re far from the shallow now._

* * *

The case was easily solved after a brief examination of the body, as Sherlock explained to Lestrade. The DI thanked him, but not without giving the consulting detective an eye up and down before leaving.

Sherlock noticed Molly didn’t come back.

* * *

 

_In the sha-ha-shallow_

 

* * *

 Just as Molly left Bart’s, a black, what looked like to be government issued, town car rolled up beside her.

“Dr. Hooper, please get in,”

Much like Sherlock, Mycroft seemed to have a careworn expression on his face.

* * *

  

_In the sha-la-sha-la-shallow_

 

* * *

Sherlock walked back to Baker Street. He needed time to think and process the turn of events.

* * *

 

In the sha-la-sha-shallow

 

* * *

One video, a contrite explanation, and apology later, Molly was dropped off at her flat.

* * *

  

_We are far from the shallow now._

 

* * *

She numbly entered her apartment, just as Sherlock enters his.

She drops her bag and coat on floor.

Sherlock sees that his new shipment of glassware had arrived, and that Mrs. Hudson washed and arranged it on his new kitchen table, ready for use, though Sherlock feels far from an experimental mood. It represents his work, the game and life he devoted himself to.

* * *

 

_Oh. Ha-ha-ha-ha._

 

* * *

Molly spies a mug sitting on her kitchen counter. It still had remnants of the coffee she had that morning. She throws it against the wall in a sudden bit of pique. It shatters, leaving a long brown stain dripping down the wall.

* * *

 

_Haaa-ha-ha-ha_

_Haawhaah_

 

* * *

Sherlock sweeps the glassware off the table in a rage, causing it all to come crashing down.

Molly pulls more cups and dishes out and does more of the same, each crash causing more frustration and devastation.

Sherlock destroys much of his kitchen, anything that even vaguely reminds him of “The Work”.

* * *

 

_Ha-ah-ah-aahhh_

 

* * *

Both Sherlock and Molly fall to their knees.

* * *

 

_I’m off the deep end._

_Watch as I dive in._

_I’ll never meet the ground._

 

* * *

No.. _.No...NO_! He refused to believe that it’s over. They hadn’t even begun. He had to find Molly.

Molly pauses when her fingers grip the handle of a knife.

* * *

 

 

_Crash through the surface, where they can’t hurt us._

_We’re far from the shallow now._

 

* * *

 Molly can’t stand to be in her flat anymore. She grabs her coat and keys.

* * *

 

_In the sha-ha-sha-hallow_

 

* * *

Sherlock arrives at her flat. He enters. He takes one look around, observing, then immediately exits.

He knows where Molly is.

* * *

 

_In the sha-la-sha-la-shallow_

 

* * *

He breathes a sigh of relief when he finally sees her on the roof of St. Barts. The site where she helped him fake his death. It’s sentimentally obvious that this would be the place where she would try to put him to rest.

Not if he can help it.

Molly wraps her coat more tightly around herself as the cold wind whips past her. Sherlock’s arms come around her, holding her tightly against him, like a pair of steel bands, anchoring her to him. They don’t look at each other, just quietly hold each other as their tears fall and they both come apart.

* * *

 

_We’re far from the shallow now._

 

* * *

The sun slowly rises casting an orange light, illuminating the couple who are still holding onto one another.

Sherlock kisses her. Finally expressing and laying bare everything that she means to him. Molly reciprocates unreservedly.

There is no going back.

Always forward.

Together.


End file.
